


A Blessing, Not a Burden

by mggislife2789



Category: Criminal Minds, Spencer Reid - Fandom
Genre: Autistic Reader, Autistic Spencer Reid, F/M, Reader-Insert, Stimming
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-09
Updated: 2017-06-09
Packaged: 2018-11-12 03:54:10
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,220
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11153697
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mggislife2789/pseuds/mggislife2789
Summary: Disclaimer: I don't own any of these characters or their original stories. This is only for fun. It's where my brain goes after the credits roll. No copyright intended. Better safe than sorry. ;)





	A Blessing, Not a Burden

Need. To. Stim. 

Goddammit.

Not now, Y/N.

You’re in the middle of a restaurant with Spencer. Tapping the sides of your legs and drumming your fingers together is not appropriate in the middle of a restaurant. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. 

Spencer could see in your eyes how hard you were trying to stop yourself, but the need was overwhelming. You were always nervous when you were eating out in a restaurant. If you were lucky enough to get the corner table, where you could shield yourself from the prying eyes of others, the anxiety, and therefore the need to stim wasn’t so great, but the only table available had been in the middle of the restaurant, so naturally, you felt like everyone was staring at you. “It’s okay,” Spencer whispered as he reached across the table and placed his hand over yours. 

With a hard swallow, you slowly began to tap on the side of your leg and immediately felt the relief wash over you. “I hate this,” you said softly. When you looked to the side, you saw a woman of about 50 looking at you from the corner of her eye - passing judgement. “It’s really bad tonight.”

“I know,” he said. “I’m really sorry.” For him, it was easier to disguise his stim. He liked facts. He always had. And whenever he was in a stressful situation, he found relief in reciting some facts. Spencer could just disguise his stim as conversation, awkward as it may be, but for you, it wasn’t as easy to pass off. 

After the waiter came with your drinks, you took a sip of water and brought both hands up to the table. “If you need to, it’s okay,” Spencer said. “If anyone says anything, I will cut them.” He smiled at his not-so-lightly veiled threat. Of course Spencer would never be violent unless the situation actually called for it, but he would no doubt cut someone down with his words. 

You relaxed slightly knowing you were dating someone who understood you on a factual and personal level. With that in mind, your eyes softened and you started to drum your fingers together. The conversation flowed between you to the point you barely noticed you were doing it anymore. But there were a few people staring, including the woman from earlier who apparently couldn’t peel her eyes from you. “She won’t stop staring,” you said, trying in vein to stop the drumming of your fingers. 

Spencer stood up the table, kissed your hand and then went to the restroom. Upon his return, he pulled up a chair next to the woman who wouldn’t stop glaring at you. “Is there a question you like to ask?” he questioned calmly. “Something you’d like to say? Because if not, I’m going to ask you to stop staring.”

“I’m not staring,” the woman said defensively. You could hear her, but you were trying to avoid eye contact. If you met her gaze, you’d probably go off yourself and Spencer was much calmer with words than you were. 

Spencer then proceeded to tell her the actual definition of the word staring, informing her that she was in fact staring. “Your girlfriend or wife or whoever she is keeps making noise. Does she not know how to conduct herself in the middle of a restaurant?”

You swallowed hard. Thankfully, Spencer and the woman weren’t drawing any attention to themselves, but just knowing that people didn’t understand and refused to try made you anxious. “Yes, she does. What she’s doing is called stimming, because she has Asperger’s syndrome. It is a developmental disorder characterized by significant difficulties in social interaction and nonverbal communication, along with restricted and repetitive patterns of behavior and interests. I have it too as a matter of fact. When she feels an overwhelming emotion, like anxiety for example, she will stim, in this case hers is drumming her fingers together and tapping her leg, in order to allay that emotion. It’s not something she can fully control. What she’s doing now is controlling it to the best of her abilities.” He paused, looking over toward you with a smile. “Now that you know what it is, maybe you can have a little bit of compassion instead of looking down on her.”

As he stood up, the woman mouthed a half-assed sorry in your direction and moved her chair so she was no longer facing you. Spencer grabbed your hands and gave them a kiss as he sat back down - just in time for your food to arrive. “Thank you, Spence,” you said. Now you had the fork and knife to focus on, so your hands were occupied. “I hate having to do that when we’re out, but having a boyfriend who understands is helpful.”

“I get it,” he said with an understanding sigh. “I get it so much. Have you ever tried the cubes, or a spinner?” You knew he had a cube; he kept it in his pocket for those times when he felt the need to verbally stim but couldn’t - that way he could fiddle with the cube in his pocket. 

You shook your head. People have been abusing them, to the point where those that actually needed them were being banned from using them. “The spinners are especially distracting, but I don’t know, the cube might help.” 

Spencer patted his pocket, his eyes going wide when he realized he’f left the cube in his coat pocket. He reached inside and pulled out the small gray and black cube. “Why don’t you keep it in your lap for the rest of the meal?” he suggested. “When you feel like you have to stim, screw around with the cube instead and see if it helps.”

After finishing your meal, you felt a bit better. No one was staring anymore, but now the overwhelming emotion was love for your amazing boyfriend. A lot of people didn’t understand that stimming didn’t just stem from negative emotions; sometimes they were positive ones to. Instead of tapping your leg, you held the cube in your hand and clicked the one side, immediately feeling a wash of relief. When an emotion built up inside you like that, positive or negative, it was almost painful, so doing something like stimming or playing with the cube eased the pain. 

Dinner was delicious, so Spencer paid the bill and grabbed your hand, lifting you up from your chair and gathering you into him. “I wanna stop somewhere before we go home,” he said as he got into the driver’s seat. You continued to play with cube, exploring all sides and what they had to offer. “I’ll be right back.” You noticed he had parked but didn’t realize where until he returned, pulling out your very own cube from a white and red Target bag. “This one’s for you.” While his was gray and black, he had found you a blue and green one. 

Excitedly, you ripped open the package and leaned over to give him a kiss. “Thank you so much,” you said. “I’m so grateful for you.”

As he pulled out of the parking lot, he grabbed your hand and gave it another kiss - the feather-light touch of his lips making your hands feel like more of a blessing than a burden.


End file.
